I'm not an inch better, I'm just fed up with that bloody photo.

There are moments where I could chop an entiry human body with the nice little Fiskars axe we use to chop firewood with. If not in those moments, I think all I can do is lump down into a sheepskin in the sunlit room and sleep for like, hours. Please consider that I'm officially ill. I had a fever this morning. It went up as much as 37,0 degrees centigrade. I'm not doing good even when I'm bad. That's just my luck.

I have started collecting money to buy my digital camera. I do NOT accept donations, thanks for the offers. I work bloody hard to earn it. I'm in a bad-language mode so I just stop here my entry.

And before I'm saying a sickness-induced goodbye, here's a photo of our chainsaw. Never near as good as a real axe, I mean, to discharge your aggression, but still.

(This photo was made on December 4, 2006 in our new kitchen, which is, as you see is being under construction. Please note the somewhat high pile of firewood in the background. The bricks are there waiting to be built into a new chimney and we use the gas for cooking.)

an up and down dated photo

Introducing my most desperate and faithful enemy....
(photo made at the end of September, 2006.)

UPdate: (Quite a down-date instead):

This little bastard does not let me live a complete life. She does not let love entering the business of life. In the fear of getting out-of-balance she carefully rejects my feelings. She fears giving and sacrifice. She likes to keep quietly on her own, cozy and warm. But what she gives me is just another icicle to chew on and she prefers the blinds on so that the Sun shall not enter my room. Thanks I'm okay. Okay, I'm not. But that's just an average day.

And melancholy does not inspire me. It just leaves me plain tired. I'm going to bad to sleep it off. What will I wake into? Another Sunday. And than to another Monday. Makes no sense, does it? I keep on updating this single entry as long as I feel this awful to see where I get.

This is Sunday, late in the evening. I'm not getting anywhere.

I'm taking a break.

I wil post soon. About anything. I'm sorry. I dislike this blue. It reminds us to a free, cloudless sky in May, when everything seems possible. But we should keep in mind that it's January and the frosts are yet to come. No buds or flowers until the frost has taken its toll. How symbolic. Makes me sick. I hate this blue.

what's up with 2006

This is any analysis of the past year - how it affected me, what I obtained, what were my losses...What are my resolutions for the new-ish year...

CAUTION. This is marked as highly personal. You are welcomed to read, if you want to get a better insight into me, myself and I - but you might not like what you see. If you feel like doing a similar brainstorming, do not hesitate to work it out on your blog. And invite me to a have a peep into you :)
I had to gather my thoughts and making this entry took a longer while as usually.

Let's start with the physical:
I gained some 5 kgs in the last weeks of 2006 and I'm hoping to shed it by doing more excercise and eating less in-between meals, yeah. I'm 165 cm tall (ok, I'm that short) and have reached 60 kgs recently. This extra 5kgs bugger me.
Despite the weight gain I kept my somewhat good and young-ish condition. I still need to get more stamina by hiking and keeping an eye on my eating habits. I am unsure of what I substitue with eating. That is not really normal.
I got a liking to swimming, which was the most pleasant physical surprise of 2006. Re-inventing swimming is like embracing an old friend. It's not that I'm a good swimmer, not at all. I just like it. And swimming in alive water (such as a river) compares to nothing.
I have more gray hair. It's not easily visible for a simple onlooker in the street, but if you watch closely, you'd spot those silver threads waving up at the top of my head. It mingles nicely to my natural black-brown tone. I'm determined NOT to dye my hair. I'm getting older, so what.
I went to The Netherlads (posts about it are here, here and here) and attented the great Terra Madre event in Italy as well. (posts about it are here, here and here). I like going abroad and getting new experiences, meeting people, get to know their way of living and thinking. These two trips were extremely useful as I was edging total exhaustion due to many different reasons. These new experiences helped me get out of the bottom of melancholy.
I've lost my job in 2006. This was a job I started in 2003. During these 3 years I had various tasks, but most of all my range of tasks paralelled the money the company had. It was a non-profit one with a small business line along and I took part in both. I liked the non-profit part better, but now I'm glad it's over. There will be some other jobs on the horizon. At the moment I'm doing some translation as this is my original job. I hope and seek to find some more translations in 2007 so as to have more money and so as to feel myself needed, necessary.
Go on with the emotional:
I did have a hard year. I had to grow up to the tasks the year 2006 challenged me with. My oldest kid (a now 10 yo intelligent yet hardly manageable boy, who has his own troubles, too... plus, to my horror I keep discovering the same inclinations within him that I have and make my own life miserable... But who else's there to help him out if not I?) was expelled from the local Waldorf School for not being cooperative. In short he was bored to tears during classes. As this was his second institute, we had to look for a third one in the middle of the school year. Nasty, isn't it? The local school admitted him (in Hungary, parents might choose any school in town for their kids, or they might opt for a school in another town as well, but the local school MUST house the kid. Regardless of him/her being a rebel, or a non-wanted one. That was the card we played... Guess what. The teachers proved to be the best ones available in town... Really so!) Well, my son's arrival to the 'new' (read: third) school was forerun by his fame which did not help him in being really accepted. So I had him home-schooled for months during spring and early summer and late fall as well. The case seem to be solved by now and he has a new teacher and everything seems to go allright :)
The point is that I had to give up some of my well liked privacy and have him home. We used to have classes and I gave him homeworks and so on. And I gave my privacy and beloved aloneness flawlessly cause I had to. I had no other choice. I am happy for I was able to put up with the situation. This was a lesson on giving, motherhood and letting some of my selfishness go... I had to fight the ultimate question: What the f... will become to my son? Is he normal or retarded? Am I to accept that he has some mental challenge (like Aspergens syndrome) or is it that the teachers are not good enough? (On a side note: he is not confirmed to have any mental challenge at all)
Also, I went through a mental stage that is best described as detachment. Due to various reasons (incl but not limited to the loss of my job, my son's situation) I felt completely worthless and I did not see the reason for carrying the whole thing on for a moment more. I felt I was ready to give in... This is somehow went away and no I do not intend to seek phyciatrics or medicaments of any of the modern kind. I've never taken any anti-depressants, thank you for the question. Nor will I ever. Drugs alter my mind, which I strongly oppose. This is not coming from any religious belief - I just don't believe in masking the symptoms. I'd rather seek the real root of the problem.
So that's why finally I've decided to seek advice and help from a kinesiologist. I owe Anniina an explanation on this, and yese, I will post something about this thing later on. You might check the internet in the meantime, but what I found was a bit of disappointing. Most pages I found scorn at it. In short: it does not hurt, it does not alter my mind. It seeks advice from within me and wants to find the cause of the problem. And if it helps - why not? The session I attended in early December was absolutely helpful. It helped me understanding why I behave in certain ways and why I treat myself in certain ways. Sounds blurry, and probably boring doesn't it?
My marriage has take a surprising leap in the dark during this autumn. It involved events I've never dreamt of. We both had our days and nights spent with crying, shouting, fearing, wondering, argueing and peacefully talking. I've never thought I could be going on for days doing barely more than shedding tears whenever I can. I do not wish to tell more about it. It's still a bit hard to understand but we are still a pair and the love is still there. We had our 12th anniversary this October and we think we are to hold each other's and until the very end. We are working on understanding each other and our very selves more. We wish to accept who we are and who the other half is. I warned you this section was about emotions, didn't I?
And finally, the spiritual part:

Spiritual experiences of the past year somehow managed to combine and put into a higher level of understanding all those things I've ever learned and or experienced in this field. Like a synthesis of all things formerly known but at a higher level. The main key of ignition was probably the course I started (which I later abandoned, for the seesions being a bit far away from my home). I had wonderful experiences like wholeness and reflection, and an out of body experience as well. I began to feel that I am more apt to perceive, analyze and understand things. Fragments make whole pictures better and clearer than they did before. The progress has not ended and I guess it will go on as long as I live - and this one is probably not the last of my learning lives. I think I've learned towards accepting the material world as it is, my being somehow vulnerable and peccable...My being a woman....(for reference, see the end of this entry) My being a being at all.... Those were the hard times.... And clearly that's not the end of my development as there are more to come this new year of 2007: I am to master many other things. Relationships, acceptance and sacrifices... Won't be easy.

And also, I met poetry along the path...or was it poetry that found me???

Is it poetry at all? Some of you like it and to be honest, I like them, too. I don't know whether there will be any continuation... If you are interested in, here's my favourite ones from last year - go here, here and here. Oh, and here. I'm sorry for the self-advertisement.

on a simple day like this

when you perceive the ever-present Sun
behind pillows of fog
- there lies salvation

Photos goes out to IllMan :) Credits to Szabolcs.

a meme about this thing we, bloggers do

This is a self-survey again, it comes from over here.

1-Do you like the look and the contents of your blog?

Well, the content is what I post so I must be satisfied with it. It's my work, my thoughts, (usually) my own photos - I do have to like it, don't I? As for the look - I'm not a computer expert, plus this is a free site so what to expect? Generally I do like it. It's green and simple. I like green and I like simple things. :) A neat answer for a silly question.

2-Does your family know about your blog?

No, and this fact sometimes evokes strange feelings within me. Earlier, when I did not have a blog, I used to keep (written) diaries. My family was aware of my writing a diary, but did not cared (or dared) to have a look. Writing a diary is considered a secret thing. You do not normally share it with someone else, do you? But now, I don't write my thoughts on paper, I use the e-form instead. No-one knows I have this blog. It is somehow uncomfortable. I MUST write things out and conceptualize my feelings and if I did not have this blog, I would write it down on paper.

Regardless of this space I usually share my feelings with my family (especially with my husband), who is always there to hear my thoughts, fears, worries, pursuits, experiments and so on. I mean, if I told him all those things that are already written here he would surely be the most eager and comprehending listener. The strange feelings comes from here. Why not share it with him when I could just as well be sharing it with him? I am confused a bit. But I don't chew on it much. I tell him whatever I find time to tell him about and let things flow as they are. He would understand anyway I'm sure. But he would not understand the language. Not because he does not speak English (which he does very well), but I'm afraid the choice to avert from my own language would upset him quite much.

3-Can you tell your friends about your blog?

No, but I found virtual friends through blogging.

4-Do you just read the blogs of those who comment on your blog?

No, I read many other blogs, but usually keep an eye on those who comment. I seek communication. On the sidebar there's a list of blogs I check regularly.

5-Did your blog positively affect your mind?

Yes, it helps me thinking about the things, events that buggers me. It helps me concentrating. Writing out things helps. It is a therapy.

6-What does the number of visitors to your blog mean?

It means how many people have found my site. Nothing less and nothing more. It has nothing to do with the value of the content I have.

Sometimes I wish for more comments (as I can't count onlookers) so as to have more people to share my thoughts with - but that's not my ultimate goal- I believe sometimes a few is better.

7-Did you imagine how other bloggers look like?

Yes, sometimes the things I read on other people's sites gives me ideas about how these people would look like - I guess these are based on prejudices. A photo might be helpful, but it is not really necessary. I do not seek a husband or partner :)

8-Do you think blogging has any real benefit?

As in #5, blogging is a therapy. A tool for expression.

People are valuable and can show their talent this way. I have seen blogs that fueled me with energy and ideas towards living a better life. I imagine this goes out the same to many other people as well. There are many blogs that contain useful information - sometimes a blogger reviews films so that I can have an idea whether I would like that special film or not. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. Many bloggers come up with the best ideas and thoughts I find. Some bloggers give me inspiration and so on.

If one believes that our world is beyond what we can touch/hear/see one surely does find benefits from doing or reading blogs.

There are useless blogs as well of course - let's not speak about them.

9-Do you think that the blogesphere is a stand alone community separated from the real world?

It is separated. The participants are real here, but you might just switch it off and on whenever you want. And this is not how real communication and connections are oout there in the real world. There's much less sacrifice and caring as between real partners.

At the same time, bloggers might form a community that might have a power in the outside world as well. They might join to make a movement for example.

10-Do some political blogs scare you?

Yes, the extremist ones. And those who present hatred and intolerance towards conceptions and beliefs they really do not able to percieve. Regardless of their point of view, I dislike stupidity. In the real life, I am, unfortunately considered an extremist, too. I feel anger and/or sadness when someone is bluntly and carelessly criticizing my side of thoughts and the side I'm at. Does that make me intolerant, too?

11-Do you think that criticizing your blog is useful?

I like when people comment if they are doing it with the purpose of improvement. I don't mind my English being corrected for example.

Without reflections one might loose direction.

12-Have you ever thought about what would happen to your blog in case you died?

It would die, too.
I'm thinking of making a copy on my PC. To save it for whatever might come. Some of the poems have no other copies for example. But most of the comments are just as much valueable for me.

13-Which blogger had the greatest impression on you?

From time to time I'm looking for new persons and ideas. At the same time I keep sticking to the ones I like. I can't name one that made the greatest impact on me. I don't like making exceptions. Blogger A gave me this, Blogger B that. Also, I'd refrain from picking one over another. I like them both- not in the same way and not for the same thing... But which is more useful? Time will tell. Not me.

14-Which blogger do you think is the most similar to you?

I don't know many bloggers... I'm unsure of their everyday thoughts and habits and how would they react in a special situation... I might name bloggers that have similar preference of movies or books... But does that count? I know it does, but does movie preference make us similar? I am unsure. Blogging does not reveal much of our personality I'm afraid. Or if it does, personality is such a complex thing that one can hardly decide which two persons are similar and which are not...

15-Name a song you want to listen to?

Well, I've listened pieces of Jesus Christ Superstar this morning. I would like to have some more of that stuff. Whoa...Finally an easy question:)

It's your turn, my dear.

And, if you like some crazy music from my university years, here's Scatman. I danced for it today - no, no shame. One can do it once in a while....

The banned books meme

This meme comes from Anniina. The list below was compiled by the American Library Association. These books were banned in schools/churches/libraries in America in the XXth century. The thing is that you bold the ones you've read in its entirety and italicize those that you've read some part of. Assuming that quotations also count, here's my list and my remarks (in brackets) besides the items...

#1 The Bible

#2 Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

#3 Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes

#4 The Koran

#5 Arabian Nights

#6 Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

#7 Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift

#8 Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer

#9 Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne

#10 Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

#11 Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli

#12 Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

#13 Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank

#14 Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

#15 Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

#16 Les Misérables by Victor Hugo

#17 Dracula by Bram Stoker

#18 Autobiography by Benjamin Franklin

#19 Tom Jones by Henry Fielding

#20 Essays by Michel de Montaigne

#21 Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

#22 The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon

#23 Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy (in English)

#24 Origin of Species by Charles Darwin

#25 Ulysses by James Joyce

#26 Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio

#27 Animal Farm by George Orwell

#28 Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell (one of the most brilliant ones in the list)

#29 Candide by Voltaire (we covered it in highschool)

#30 To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

#31 Analects by Confucius

#32 Dubliners by James Joyce

#33 Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

#34 Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

#35 Red and the Black by Stendhal

#36 Capital by Karl Marx (we had to cover it in highschool)

#37 Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire

#38 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

#39 Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence

#40 Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

#41 Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser

#42 Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

#43 Jungle by Upton Sinclair

#44 All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque

#45 Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx (this is just a guess)

#46 Lord of the Flies by William Golding

#47 Diary by Samuel Pepys

#48 Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

#49 Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy

#50 Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

#51 Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak

#52 Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant

#53 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey

#54 Praise of Folly by Desiderius Erasmus

#55 Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

#56 Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X

#57 Color Purple by Alice Walker

#58 Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger

#59 Essay Concerning Human Understanding by John Locke

#60 Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

#61 Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe

#62 One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

#63 East of Eden by John Steinbeck

#64 Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison

#65 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

#66 Confessions by Jean Jacques Rousseau

#67 Gargantua and Pantagruel by François Rabelais

#68 Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes

#69 The Talmud

#70 Social Contract by Jean Jacques Rousseau

#71 Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

#72 Women in Love by D. H. Lawrence

#73 American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

#74 Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler

#75 A Separate Peace by John Knowles

#76 Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

#77 Red Pony by John Steinbeck

#78 Popol Vuh

#79 Affluent Society by John Kenneth Galbraith

#80 Satyricon by Petronius

#81 James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl

#82 Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

#83 Black Boy by Richard Wright

#84 Spirit of the Laws by Charles de Secondat Baron de Montesquieu

#85 Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut

#86 Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George

#87 Metaphysics by Aristotle

#88 Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder

#89 Institutes of the Christian Religion by Jean Calvin

#90 Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse

#91 Power and the Glory by Graham Greene

#92 Sanctuary by William Faulkner

#93 As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

#94 Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin

#95 Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig

#96 Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

#97 General Introduction to Psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud

#98 Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

#99 Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Alexander Brown

#100 Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

As you can see my knowledge is biased. I admit not knowing many of the authors named above. Most of the titles I marked are European ones.

I missed Oscar Wilde badly from the list, I just can't believe he did not made it with The Picture of Dorian Gray or Salome, or just about any of his pieces. I also feel that William Wharton's Birdy has also been omitted. And also, where's Albert Camus with his short novel called The Stranger. I might as well name others that I think are missing from this list, but wait, I can't name those that I have NOT read, see?

What's your opinion?

leaving

loosening the buckles finally
I take you down like a worn-out coat
which I do not fit anymore
and which I wish not to fit me anymore
for you turn my honey sour
and evil awakens within me at the touch of your lips
I need to leave you -

your color comes off my walls in scraps
I do not wish to see them anymore
your skin scrobbles mine
your hands smell disintegration
I need to leave you -

your ship is missing the anchor
your house is missing the stove
so full of air, noise and flavoursome chunks
so in need of love -
and I no longer wish to fuel you

I need to leave you before its too late
before I'm lost
for myself
and from myself
and yes, I am selfish to protect the belief
that one day...

but that day might never come
we'll be drifting apart
you - seeking new ports, fresh game to conquer but fail to preserve
always afloat yet going deeper below
me - keeping the source, never really moving yet receiving more and more

all that's going around now is admissible
we do not correlate
I need to leave you -
and so I do.

This photo was made in the Pilis Mountains in 2005. Yup, that's me in black.

I'm sorry to interrupt my flow of working but this thing was inside and I let it out. I wrote it bearing one special person in mind, but re-reading I found that it might as well suit me, my solder self somehow. Still - there's no need to worry. I'm neither leaving myself, nor preparing to do it - in the physical sense. I'm getting better. Deep within I suspect recurrent re-visits. Those that always turn to be painful in the end. Still - I can't really leave the situation. No matter how strong I feel at the moment I might loose and give in to the call some other time again. Well, I'll see. *keepin' an eye on myself*

still alive and more kicking than before

Thanks for everyone for the good wishes for the coming year - it starts with a short work with deadline for 12 January. Thanks Heavens, cause I (we, the family) do need the money. We have to move on with the building and renovating of our house. Of course a small amount of money does not really counts but I would like to buy a digital camera for me and I'm thinking of buying it on my own, rather than spending a family money. That makes more sense, doesn't it? I'm translating a research paper from Hungarian to English.

I'm sure I'll be back sooner than that date. Cause I'm a workaholic and I must go off to work.

Keep well, my friends.

I'm much much better than I was last year. Maybe it's because of the new vitality that is inevitable around this time of the year. Maybe it's the Sun that shines around - after all those gloomy, foggy days....

and if you wake up in the middle of the day and see no Sun blame it on neither the Sun nor your eyes - draw the curtains back, don't let them keep you from seeing the brightness.

goodbye 2006

Who is behind the wheel when the wagon goes off road into a mud?
Who urges the horses until the foam leaves flying traces in the air?
Who has the power to blindfold the eyes of that little girl in the ball?
---

It rather be over now, but I feel it surely is not the end. Not yet.

I will be away for a few days, visiting relatives. When we return on December 30, we will be celebrating my son's 10th birthday. We are planning to spend and celebrate New Year's Eve at a friend of us and this means I won't be writing anything before January 3, 2007.

Happy New Year to us all!

I do plan to write, however, a short summary about 2006. It might not be that short, after all... I had lots of new experiences - bad and good as well. In short: I'm glad to have met and made virtual friends with you through blogging. The long version is yet to come.

Below is a movie version of one of my favourite REM songs - Everybody hurts. Skip if you dislike the band :)

a short notice

Christmas is here and during the activities I have a little rest. I did feel awful on my birthday but now it is somehow allright. Watching the kids' joy in the new toys and all those fancy food we have, candies, chocolates make my day. I try not to feel that demon that lurks around the corner. Or rather put it this way, I try not to let it close enough to me. I get myself involved in activities. I received some interesting books and reading them, playing with the kids, cooking, visiting relatives and worrying for my girlfriend who became suddenly hospitalized for thrombosis on December 25 makes me see the world through a different lense.

the above photo was made on December 24, 2004 - by me. this year the tree is the same tree and the decoration is almost the same.

edging the verge

the ballroom is crowded as ever
laughs jingle, smiles crumple
people all around
electric laughs, wired emotions,
bitter kisses and sour goodbyes
electric light.
motionless touches, clattering, clusmy, muddy words.
I felt alone and that it's time I left the building and so I did
why bearing the scene for a breath more
when this is just exactly how it happens just about anytime
so I traded the false, fading warmth to
a hazy, wind-fissured night
the breeze was drifting from the swamp
there I stood at the edge
and it was there that I inhaled the air
and got intoxicated by its spleen
I closed my eyes and wished for a dream
but that never came
I remained longing for a dream
that never really came
and the longing made my days offensive,
blank, barren and vain
I knew all that I need is some energy to watch things at a different angle
to see the shine and the light
to become easy
to mingle with the happy medium
and when I saw that the serious can be blessed, too
I wondered what am I, who am I to not fit in
and I still wonder along the nights and days that are left mine
and mine alone
who am I to not fit
who am I
to be the one to fight yet being unable to draw a single sword,
the one to conquer yet being maddened by one drop of tear,
the one to win yet being burdened by visions
who,
bordering the four-o
not yet halfway through with this all
yet wondering if that is what it is all about
finding more and more
and using less and less
not wanting anything really anymore
just-
that dream I wanted,
the dream I wanted to become
all those sparkling ideas to fulfill
all those landmarks to feel familiar with
where am I?
just-
a single dandelion that is ripe enough to start flying off to space and time
yet being trapped again
by flesh and cravings, momentary attachments
let me go
I have to let them go
I have to let them go
and let myself go flying high,
high and higher leaving myself behind
- please lift the anchor
the ship is off to go any minute now
but I keep returning to flesh
to regrets, tears, joys and pains but I know I should
let myself go flying
please lift the anchor
the ship is off to go any minute now

today

is just another day before my birthday. I wrote this today, while walking on the way to a friend's house in the evening. This is not the thing I referred to in my last entry, this is something else. This is I wrote in Hungarian. Someday I will translate it.

Esőcsepp vagyok, harmathullás,
vékony gyengécske vízcsobogás
mondd Uram, mit érek én?
Orkán, szélvész helyett...lassú szellő,
telt folyómeder helyett...ócska teknő
mondd Uram, el, mit érek én?
Hova kezem nyújtom, kihűlt űrt markolok,
Hová lábam teszem, ibolyát taposok..
érdemes-e mégis, mit gondolsz?

alone

This is a clip based on the movie 'The English patient'. The song's called 'Sola', meaning 'alone' in Spanish. Sung by Dianna Navarro in a most meaningful way.

div>

All my dear friends and friendly visitors, Christmas and two birthdays in the family are commencing. I might not be able to check my blog and yours as well everytime - I will keep a diary on paper so that I can make sure everything is recorded. I already have another little poemlet at hand and I might post it soon. Now, I'm off to cleaning the house, making Christmas food for the family, decorating the house, visiting relatives - I suppose that's about we all do at this time of the year, don't we?

For those who wish to hide and weep instead I wish a little peaceful island among the waves of rage. Letting anger out and embracing light and understanding. For although anger is right, letting it out relieves the pain.

Merry Christmas for all of you.

Advent, Santa Claus and Christmas activities

'blogger has run out of beta' - isn't that ridiculous? But that's not my topic.
Advent, Santa Claus and Christmas activities in Hungary in general, or rather, in our family....

I have seen the interest arising around facts I spillt out about Christmas habits over here. I spoke about the Advent Wreath (which I lazily translated Advent Ring instead) here. This is put on the dining table, or on the most important table in the whole house.

Later on I described how Santa Claus visits houses where kids live here. Santa Claus comes usually in the morning of 6 December putting candies, chocolates, fruits and nuts into the well cleaned SHOES of kids. Some families have taken up the habit of having it put into stockings as the rest of the world does, and also their kids receive toys as well, but that's far from our traditions. Santa Claus also visits kindergartens and schools this day. It is usually impersonated by an actor, or by the nearest big strong man available :) - in our kindergarten it was the gardener...

Santa comes in red which is a shame. For most people it is not a question to be bothered at all. Enough said of that already here.

Santa Claus comes and goes away on the 6 December. He has nothing to do with Christmas, and rightly so.

Advent means waiting for Christmas and Christmas is when Jesus was born, according to the legend, that is. So, Christmas presents are brought by Jesus, or by angels, or by the Christmas tree itself. Or, by the grandmother, grandfather and other relatives :)

The Christmas tree is erected on 24 December. Not BEFORE Christmas as it is a Christmas tree. One might divert from a tradition but that, in my book is wrong. We have traditions. We keep them so they keep us. And so the order is kept.

In some families, the Christmas tree is decorated by the parent(s) and the tree itself is a miracle and big surprise for the kids. In other families like ours, the tree is decorated together - parents, kids, small and big, decorate it TOGETHER.

The Christmas tree is a pine. In the Hungarian pine means 'fenyő'. Within the word 'fenyő' a sensible Hungarian feels the words 'fenn' meaning 'high' or 'up' and 'fény', meaning 'light'.

Basically this is what Christmas is about. The light that comes from above. Not in the phisical sense of 'above', but in the spiritual sense. At the same time this is when the daylight that has been diminishing ever since Midsummernight starts increasing again. This is why light is associated with Christmas. The light of the Sun brings warmth, thus life and so does love.

Here's a relevant poem I found today, the original is Finnish, translation done by Anniina J.

A perfect one for Christmas.

Olen kuin vanha talo. Jos lakkaat lämmittämästä minua, rapistun. - Risto Rasa -

I am like an old house, If you stop heating me, I will deteriorate. - Risto Rasa -

Christmas presents are placed under the tree and are revealed on Christmas Eve, one the 24 December. De-boxing is always fun for kids. On 25-26 December, families gather and celebrate together.

In most of the households, the Christmas tree is a freshly cut pine. Some families prefer plastic ones so as to keep it for the next year. Some, including ours PREFER NOT KILLING A TREE in the name of seeking Christmas joys so we bought a tree with roots and all and set it up in a large container. We keep it outside in the garden during the year and bring it inside on the 24 December. We decorate it like I said and disassemble it on 6 January.

Most families keep the tree however until mid or late January. Than they throw it away. Had your joy? Throw it away. I find it disgusting. But that's just probably me... And don't tell me it's like buying potatoes or carrots that are cultivated in fields, similarly to those Christmas trees that are cultivated too, for the occassion. Killing a tree is killing a tree.

Our ancestors worshipped trees. And they adored streams and wells alike. Unless in special need they left them unmolested. They used them well and kept them for further generations. This present world makes me sick.

The New Year's Eve has nothing to do with Christmas so I won't speak about that.

30 something years ago my parents found a small package under the Christmas tree. It came into being on December 23 and someone put it under the tree during Christmas. It was a small bundle of a baby girl. They did not really like it, because it was not a boy. But I will overcome this little factoid, too. This is just what I am doing these days and weeks. Because I did want to become a girl, a woman and so I did. My parents liked me of course. But me, not belonging to the desired gender could not save their marriage, because they did not really like each other. It was not me they did not like, it was each other they could not put up with. Sometimes it takes 37 years to understand sensible and simple facts like these. But finally, I am here to understand it all. And I like my parents nevertheless.

This had to come out. And I'm feeling better now.

speaking of

languages, I am troubled now.

I started this blog more than a year ago. I started it in Hungarian, for it was of no question for me. This language has always been the primary way of expression for me. This is how I absorb rhymes and poetry in general this is where the words crumble like a good piece of bread in your mouth - you feel each particle and get nourished by the compound as well. Never in my life have I expected to be able to feel the same way towards any other language. Cause those are secondary ones.

I had a somehow painful flick with Spanish for a while and had some times learning German too, but the list of my secondary languages, composed of only three languages is and has always been topped off by English.

I never thought I would be able to write in English and by writing I mean something that has meaning beyond words, something that not unlike to a dress covers and reveals, plays with you and comforts you.

I sometimes am surprised by what I am able to 'produce' in this second language of mine... I am sometimes mad at not being able to do something similar in the language I adore the most... as if from time to time I abandoned my husband for a lover, and kept returning home....and each time I enjoy the flirt...

yet feeling somehow...misplaced.

I, just today translated a poem a friend wrote.

I felt the need because I felt the poem so much it came under my skin instantly.

But I did not write it...did I?

I admit having done some alterations to the text, but you know how it goes with translation. It's not the words you translate its the meaning.

I am unsure.

Why am I not able to use my beloved first language for expressing myself?

Is this an excuse to escape from reality?

I think I'm going to gulp down some good Hungarian poetry.

Cheers.

Your opinion are welcomed.

winter fog

winter brings white cushions
filled with smooth feathers
to protect, to save, to keep
the fallen leaves waiting, who now are
dreaming of the soil they are
to become before the Sun rises again
over the skyline to fill the scene
once again with feathers and beaks
in a time yet to come
over here, over this garden
gasping for air in the clinch of fog
darkened by the night where rain's dripping
on the roofs of the henhouse
to be visited by a fox
on its quick-paced paws among
the sleeping birds who in fear
of getting slaughtered scream and squeak
into the black desolation so as to wake
us and consciousness
whipping them alive slowly is weakened
to a voice barely audible
among the clouds it is just like a sigh
over moors when the wind blows off
those will-o-the-wisps away....

six words for eternity or for good

First of all, let me express my thanks for Anniina's encouragement towards my writing, my therapeutic experience with blogging, poetry and life in general.

In one of her posts, she refers to the WIRED magazine's six-word competition for writers. For more details, check the original site and competition here.

I found it challenging. And so here's my version. (Six words marching into the finale below):

Compose. Revise. Rewrite. Delete. Give up.

What am I up to?

Dear visitors,
I am sorry for the lack of updates this week.

First, let us have a funny moment by looking at the above photo. You may or may not have seen it somewhere over the wide net of the inter...I have found it yesterday and I like how the little kid actually licks the nose of the pig. For those who have kids, this is very funny.

Okay, go on to some harder nuts to crack.

I have been awarded by a very kind reader of mine, who suggested my compilation of whinings, literary stumblings as a blog worth checking. I always feel dizzy and incompetent at being praised. Or even suggested as being worthy. I feel torn BETWEEN taking a great breath and leaning back at the chair, patting my shoulder and (in a strange twist) jumping as high as the sky feeling able AND feeling small, unimportant. It is definitely a fault of mine, which, in due time, I will conquer. Or that is one of the things I'm trying to do in the foreseeable future.

So.

To this end, and to many others, I have started attending kinesiology sessions. It means that I, or my family is in the focus and the therapist tries to help me/us in the way ahead.

I visited him (the therapist) this Wednesday. I was quite allright beforehand, and the session revealed lots of traumas and false dispositions - the strange thing is that I was aware of them all, or most of them. Guess that makes someone going to a therapy, right?

Yet.

I. AM. CONFUSED.

The following idea came into my mind just in Wednesday evening:

---------

I remember floating in space among stars

this is the planet I chose

this is the family I saw fit

I recollect opting for a female body and fate

this is the father and mother I chose

this is the fate I found fit

my dreams, my deeper inspirations

for the utter development

I have come to terms

for I saw myself coming to this very place

by my intentions and my intentions alone

to be part of the Universe

I, Luca* have finally arrived

-------------

This thing above is a...khm...let's say it's a result of the therapy written in words. Not more.

* Luca is a FEMALE name in the Hungarian language. It originates from the Roman Lux, Lucille (bringing light) and is related to the English Lucy :).

We pronounce it L-oo (as in the English word:wood)-tz (as in pretzel)-uh (as in Sun).

-------------

Move on.

The therapist warned me to look for signs of my subconscious, because I might or might not be determined to become driven off of my road to happyness. Yes, by my own very self. Did I know all that before? Positive. Or at least, I felt it. Sometimes it takes a therapist to awake someone and to be shown a potential way out.

Let me try to go forward in this road...

This blog has always been a therapy for me.

What will change from now on?

Probably nothing.

Why do I bore you with all this?

Because it's my therapy. Writing things out, finding facts and pictures about the development...

Somewhere along the way it might as well become funny and interestin to witness... If it has been of some interest for any of you up to this present day, it will remain the same, too. Don't you worry :)

Now, this is what I dreamed this night:

----

Two giants fighting with a ball

trying to get hold of it

One, a muscular, strong man is dark

as the deepest bark on the oldest tree in an abandoned forest

when the ball is with him he kicks it hard

trying to push it over into a precipice

the other one, a lean , more gracile man woven of light

is also about the have the ball

if he wins over his antagonist, his plan is to deliver the ball closer to the source of light

and what a fight there is between them

wills clashing

but-

within the ball there is light

a soul that has just arrived from above

a little, mighty soul of a girl

with eyese attached on the giants

-----

right now I am confused and see myself as this cat portrayed on the photo below: S/he sees the events, is mesmerized by what s/he perceives, yet has no potential to control.

Csontváry

IllMan of Glasgow has produced a photograph and published it here. The atmosphere reminded me of some works of a Hungarian painter called Csontváry Kosztka Tivadar. So I looked it up and found an English page about him for those who can't read Hungarian. It's here.

I like his landscapes and town pictures as well. Some of his his paintings are captured at times when the natural source of light (sunshine or moonbeam) is weak so there is need for artificial light.

Here are some of his masterpieces. Enjoy!

This one's above called 'Joy-ride in Athens'.

This one above is located in Jajce. Following his inner call and to gather artistic impression he travelled a lot. He spent some considerable time in Italy and around and later, he went to the Middle East as well.

This one was inspired in Naples, Italy (Napoli, Italia) and is called Sunset... I love, LOVE it!

And this final picture is probably one of his most famous pieces. It's called 'The pilgrimage to the Cedar of Lebanon'.

let us dance by the streams of moon
while it is full, sieving through the tangle
it's time we held hands and entwine around the fire
one and one
will become one again

the light
the air
the stars above

all acknowledge us
the stir of love
the wisdom of time

stop the spinning

I am the world
for I took a deep breath
and whenever I let the spirit out I can be anything and its opposite, too.

I am an actor who falls asleep on stage, a poet who discards his words, a mother who feeds on her own children, a bird that picks up a straw only to see whether it was a snake or not, a piece of stone that roams away from the hill, a drop of rain that is inspired to go back to the cloud... a misplaced fury behind the rainbow...

a wipe of wind that smashes them all over again...

and so I do inhale again

yesterday

I'm sorry to interrupt this interesting flow of discussion about various Christmas and Santa Claus customs in various countries. I will go on with that topic, I promise.

But yesterday I wrote this and as a writer-documentarist with a proper sense of duty I felt obliged to take note of my feelings.

Here they are with a photo by Szabolcs:

I feel like having inhaled over too much of life recently. I'm changed and the alterations inspire, encourage, accelerate and frighten me. I have met the other side these days. The one that has always been there, a silent and constrained companion, that is.

I've taken too much into me and I feel like exploding any minute now. Or might just get some sleep. Let's hope that some rest will save me. Pray that it saves me.

I was just thinking about love - Christmas is coming my friends

Santa Claus has arrived this morning. My son cleaned all the shoes we wear nowadays (4 shoes altogether) and after letting them dry out, we placed them carefully in the window. That is where the presents are foound this morning. It is the Santa Claus that brings the presents on 6 December. (photo below depicts my son in the morning when we discover the sweets and delicacies in the window - photo was made on 6 December, 2005 by me)

Did you know that the story originates from St Michael, a Russian nobleman, who pleased and surprised the kids of the poor with little presents and food? He used to wear WHITE clothes in the big Russina winter - no wonder, just imagine you do not want to be seen by so as to make it a surprise... You would not want to wear RED which is so clearly visible, would you in your normal mind?

So why does Santa Claus wear red all over the globe now?

Yeah, it's business.

As red catches the eye more aptly.

As people notice it quicker. As red is a sign to accelerate your level of adrenalin. Do not meditate over the niceness of the late Michael's goodwill and proper deeds.

Do not immerse yourself into thinking.

It's business, I told ya.

Go and get something. You need something. You do. Even if you don't.

All right, you don't, but it is ME who is in desperate NEED OF MORE MONEY. MONEY. MONEY.

Forget about love. It's money, honey.

(above there is a devil made of cake. We received from one of our friends as a Santa Claus surprise fro the kids in 2005.)

Advent activities

in our home include the making of a special Advent ring. I buy a standard non-decorated hay ring at the market and the family (me, my husband and two kids) decorate it at home according to our taste and to what we have at home. We often collect leaves and dried flowers. Sometimes we make the candles, too, from bee's wax sheets. This year I bought nice candles along with the hay ring, but the rest of the decoration is based our collection. We made it on 30 November. My son had hard times waiting for the first candle to be lit this past Sunday - he was eager to see the flames. He exclaimed that this is how a perfect Andvent ring should look like. I'm happy to having seen him content with what he'd done.

So here it is:

I think its bordering perfection :)

Another Advent activity for the kids is to see and wait for the doors of the Advent home to become unlocked per each morning. This little house was done by my husband and by my then 2 yo son years ago. The house itself is a small house with exactly 24 doors. Each year during the Advent, morning by morning another door opens and the kids find something nice and edible inside. It is the miracle of angels for them. Should they ask whether we put the sweets in there, we would kindly tell them the truth. But not before they need the truth. It is part of their childhood, so as is the magical appearance of presents under the tree at Christmas Eve. We tell them that as long as they believe in angels it is the angels that bring them presents; sweet delicacies and toys, books and such.

At school, kids surprise each other with presents, too. The teacher writes the names of each kid on a paper and the kids, one after another takes one piece of paper, thus deciding who will surprise who at the school Santa Claus event. This takes place on 6 December.

once again

remembering 23 October 1956-2006...

this is a video link I received a day ago. I know it's past the time, but there are English subtitles to the film so that you can have a better look at the situation...

conversations in the mist

Enter the forest, come, come, my dear. The Keeper of Fire is awaiting. She calls your name.

---

'Welcome back' the monster said with a contorted smile on his face. 'It's not you' I said him peacefully. Interrupted in his anger, the monster stopped howling for a while, then omitted another growl. Its claws fizzled in the light. 'No, it's not your real you' - I went on.

This undoubtedly seemed to disturb him. The air shook around him and quick as a butterfly he disappeared into the think forest.

But soon I heard him shouting 'Don't you fear me? - 'Fear me!' - 'Cause if you fear me not... the voice turned into a burble. 'What if I fear you not' I asked. For the first time I challenged the monster. 'Pray tell me what if I fear you not.'

'You'll loose yourself.'

'No, I won't, cause my real self will not ever loose me.'

---

Feed me no sweet chocolates, creams and such, for my toung has no taste and desire for such delicacies. Feed me on bitter, on the sharpest leaves ever produced by the Earth. That is what will do.

---

'You can never really leave the road, the one you have deliberately put your feet on.' - he argued.

'No way. It's not the traveller who sets his feet on the path - it's the path that chooses the traveller.' - I said.

---

All photos made by me on October 28, 2005.

thoughts from a mother

This week we are going to the second session of kineziology (sp?) with my son. The first one was about a month ago. He liked that the lady told him things his parents use to say - if you hear it from a different source it all sounds better, doesn't it?

I think the first session was successfull - he no longer seemed to reject the idea of going to school on a daily basis. I wish the second one would be successful, too. As a mother I know he needs more encouragement. He is apt to repress and despise his personal abilities. He does not make friendship easily. He is looking for something real and sure, something he can really rely on and trust. At the same time he seeks to be loved and accepted.

He is so much like I was as a kid. But I'd wish to save him from all those pains I experienced. Being alone in a crowd, having noone to turn to, watching easy-going kids having fun, staying away from the light people... Wanting to have some fun too, but not trying to get involved into something that does not hold the promise of a real love. Not easy. I must teach him more to let him enjoy life, to avoid letting him not enjoy it, just as I did not enjoy it... I am unsure, as I am not at the end of the process of evolving either. But I'd love to see him happy...

The drawing was made by my daughter in 2004.

Late fall chores

We've been busy working in the garden these weekends. The firewood has arrived and we first had to make room for it by rearranging the old (dried) firewood to some other placeto make room for the fresh one, whch is not suitable for instant use. It takes a year to dry it out. So after clearing the storage we had to transport the fresh wood with a wheelbarrow to there and chop it up a bit. This is done partly because fresh wood cuts MUCH better and partly b/c cut up wood dries better, too. We've been doing this for hours and for days and days again.

I'm fine - sort of

It appears that the road is empty, but I know it's not.

There are shadows but certainly, the Sun is up there for those who do not forget to open their eyes and unfold their wings.

And for those who like a bit of drama, a bit of twist, and good films in general :) http://www.atomfilms.com/af/content/atom_29

the old shell is worn-out the new one is just about to form

seems that looong titles are my favourites this time of my life, aren't they?
Okay, I am here and try to give some explanation - much needed by myself, too.

me, myself and I? Do I speak too much about myself?

As I think I have just grown up to see that it was high time that the old daughter-father relationship went away. It has not. Distrusts and suspicion have crawled into the little hut we used to built for ourselves.

I feel like Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2; when she realizes that she had to strengthen herself to be able to survive.

I feel like I have to stop whining about any loss I suffered - not that I did that too much...

I witnessed my transformation with awe, as much of the things I changed within myself was of my use and benefit. I know this. And I am thankful for the person who had the courage to help me, a belief in me and an uttermost love towards me - all those feature do still exist.

That makes it harder.

For my part, I love him, too. But....

I feel my emotions shattered. We do not seem to have enough quality time together to make the love real again. I am scared to say that the fire has gone cause it has not. Or not really. What happened during my stay in Holland was not the reason for our not being well together - it was just a shock that has woken me up. It was high time we faced this.

Why? Why I say these things and think like that? How will it end?

I am into finding myself. The grown-up woman. Sounds trivial? Life is at its bests...and worsts... Signs like The Tower might tell something. That I am unable to behave as I used to yet I am bounded by habits, too. That I feel frustrated - the feeling I have been experiencing from early this year on... living in a golden cage, where everything seems perfect. Not in the way you find the same symbol in various literatures such as in Ibsen's A doll's house (Nora), but yet...

The want to break free seemed pointless at the same time. I love this mam he loves me - why? Why want anything else when everything's so fucking perfect? We are told to be the match made in heaven. So again, why? What is wrong with me?

Is it me who is wrong? The things I have lost and have given up are mainly bullshits I know. But somehow I feel I have lost something that was entirely me. Why do I have to think like this at all? Why am I not content with the present?

Can someone possibly share some self-confidence? To ignite the strength I know I have in me? I prefer not accepting help, though. It is a task I must do all by myself. And with the love I have within. I might fall... I will stand up.